The Parker Legacy
by agentk-008
Summary: What is Miss Parker willing to do (or become) to ensure her place in the Parker legacy? Please be kind, this is my first story. R/R please!!!


1 Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, please don't sue I have no money.  
  
2 Summary: What exactly will Parker do to secure her place in the Parker legacy.  
  
Author's note: I'll keep this short and sweet, sorry if it sucks, it's my first. The ending for IOTH just bugged me, Parker's getting too mushy. It might end up MP/J, depending on what the monkey's tell me to write.  
  
3  
  
4 THE PARKER LEGACY  
  
That was all it was, on the island, just a moment of weakness. And she had another one, on the phone when she'd wondered aloud whether the scrolls held her and Jarod's future. Moments of weakness. Damn, she was having a lot of those lately. She hated to think it, but maybe Brigitte was right. Maybe emotions did make her soft. It all started with Debbie. God she loved that kid. When she got to The Centre she was Miss Parker, cold, calculating . . . the ice queen. She liked it that way. Now, she was lucky if her sweepers didn't laugh behind her back. She even had days when she thought of leaving The Centre. Now she was just making herself sick.  
  
She started to reach for the single malt in her desk drawer, but decided against it. The last thing she needed was to get drunk and crash on the way home, or worse, stay here and spill her heart out to a nobody sweeper on the night shift. No, Marian Sybil Parker was gone, and Miss Parker was going to make a comeback. Her mother always held such stock in names. She had even named her daughter Marian Sybil. She understood now that Sybil had meant prophetess, her mother's little hint at what the future held for her daughter. But Marian had come from her mother's favorite grandmother, a link to her past, and the real key to her future. Marian meant bitter, and what she'd really need to be to get back into the Centre. If she had to destroy a life to make her own worth living, then so be it. She'd done it before and she'd do it again. With that she picked up her things and walked out, deliberately running into the night Janitor, just to give him one of her patented Parker glares and watch him quiver. Welcome back, Miss Parker.  
  
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The next day began anew, and so did Miss Parker. It was Saturday, and therefore she didn't have to be at work until 10:00. She wanted to be there at 9:00. The first thing she did was take all the pictures she had, including those of her mother, and she threw them in a box on the highest shelf of her closet. Then, she took another box down. Upon opening it she found all of her cigarettes and lighters, since she didn't like the idea of smoking something that had been in the closet for 3 years, she took out the lighters and threw the rest away. She had a cup of coffee, showered, and dressed in her favorite black suit. The one designed to make the women feel tasteless and make the men drool. She got in her car and drove to the gas station near her home where she bought her brand of cigarettes and lit one just before driving away. The first drag went down fairly smooth. Like riding a bike, she thought.  
  
She took a long look at The Centre as she drove up. It no longer looked like a prison to her, more like a tomb. A place to spent eternity. And after all, wasn't that what she was . . . the crypt keeper's great- granddaughter? Yes, The Centre would be hers. She'd be damned, literally, if she let Lyle get his nine little talons on her legacy. She walked in with renewed force. She did own this place, and regardless of who her father was, she was still a Parker.  
  
"Good morning Miss Parker." Willie said with a little smile. She stopped dead in her tracks. Pivoting on one heel, she inhaled a puff of smoke and blew it in his face. She had the satisfaction of seeing him cough.  
  
"You speak if and when you are spoken to. You may be my father's lap dog, but open your mouth near me again, and I'll slice out your tongue." She walked away without an answer. God it felt good to be home.  
  
"So you finally admit I'm your father." She turned to see Raines standing behind her, without Lyle, and without his pet oxygen tank.  
  
"Until someone gives me proof otherwise . . . Daddy, I'm willing to accept the fact. You spoke of signs of loyalty?"  
  
"Yes. Jarod would be a nice one."  
  
"Keep little brother out of my face and we have a deal." She leaned in close to his face. "I am the Parker legacy."  
  
"Your brother has been a valuable asset to your team."  
  
"My track record regarding Jarod took a nosedive as soon as Lyle and his little blonde showed up."  
  
"Your emotional connection to Jarod is very strong."  
  
"And that's to my advantage now. He still hates Lyle as much as ever." She turned and saw Lyle getting off the elevator. "We'll talk later, Daddy."  
  
"I could get used to you calling me that. Welcome back Miss Parker."  
  
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It was so empowering. She felt fantastic. Raines was going to give her what she wanted, she could feel it, Lyle would be off the pretender hunt, and she would soon catch Jarod and secure her future in the Parker legacy. Why had she ever felt the need to be weakened by emotions? Just then the door opened and Broots and Sydney came strolling in.  
  
"Good Morning Miss Parker." Broots smiled widely over his coffee cup.  
  
"Good Morning." Sydney said.  
  
"Cut the pleasantries boys, I don't care if it's good or not. All I care is that within one week, Jarod will be back in the Centre where he belongs. Broots, what do you have?"  
  
"Uh, well nothing yet, but . . ."  
  
"Then get something! Do. Your. Job."  
  
"Yes Miss Parker" He mumbled as he slipped out the door.  
  
"Is something troubling you Miss Parker?"  
  
"Why would something be troubling me Syd? The only thing wrong is that your franken-boy is not in his cage where he belongs. Other than that everything's just peachy."  
  
"You seem angry, closed off, did something happen?"  
  
"Aw, Sydney. I do believe you're trying to get me to express my innermost feelings. I'll tell you what happened Syd, I woke up and realized that the world isn't perfect. It's full of lies and deceit. It cost my mother her life and it's not going to cost me mine. I will live, and hopefully a hell of a lot longer than my little brother, who will soon be slithering in here wanting to know why I got him kicked off the pretender project. And you know what, I like it. Now run off like a good Centre drone, do your work, and leave me to mine. And tell me if your little lab rat calls."  
  
She felt a pang of guilt as he walked out the door, but ignored it. Sydney wasn't her friend anymore. Miss Parker didn't have friends and she sure as hell didn't have feelings.  
  
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Lyle stormed down the hall and into his sister's office. She was sitting at her desk, a cloud of smoke surrounding her. He couldn't read her face, and he didn't like that. She should've been weaker than ever after that little stint on the island.  
  
"Our father has just sent me to Africa on, and I quote 'very important business'. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you?"  
  
"Why would I know anything about it little brother?"  
  
"Considering the recent development in the search for Jarod . . ."  
  
"You mean Daddy's little threat?"  
  
"Since when do you call Raines 'Daddy'?  
  
"That's not important, what is important is that you won't be around for a while and that leaves me in charge of the Jarod pursuit. Darn, I really wanted to take a vacation. Guess it'll have to wait."  
  
"With you in charge he'll never get back here. When our father finally realizes that, heads will roll . . . literally." Satisfied that he'd had the last word, he stormed out.  
  
Sitting unnoticed in the corner Sam looked up from his file.  
  
"He thinks you have no intention of bringing Jarod back."  
  
"You know martial arts, Sam. What do they always tell you about an overconfident opponent?"  
  
Sam leaned back and smiled.  
  
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Jarod paced by the phone wondering if he should call Parker. It might be too soon. If he knew her, and he did better than anyone, she was still trying to work things out. He stared down at the file in his hands. Besides, he thought, I have someone to look for. He stared down at the hospital file containing his mother's picture. No forwarding address, but that could be remedied. He sat down to work.  
  
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For the first time in a long time Broots was afraid to walk into Parker's office. He didn't know what had gotten into her lately, but it looked like her old self was starting to break through, and he definitely didn't like it. But he had good news so he was pretty sure she wouldn't get angry. He took a deep breath . . . and knocked.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Uh, M-M-Miss Parker?"  
  
"Do I always have to repeat myself?! What!"  
  
"Uh, I think I have something." Oh, God. That smile. She looked like a snake with a mouse, a true predator.  
  
"Well, spill it!"  
  
"Uh, you said Jarod's mother was hurt, right? So I ran a check of all the hospitals near where those boats would have come ashore." He smiled, pleased with himself.  
  
"Don't look so smug until Jarod is back in the Centre. Did you find her?"  
  
"Well the file didn't have a forwarding address, but she signed in as one Andrea Peterson. She stayed for nearly 7 hrs, and was treated for exhaustion and mild hypothermia, as well as the gunshot wound. Christine said that . . ."  
  
"Who's Christine?"  
  
"The night nurse at the Balfour Hospital. She said that a woman came in with a gunshot wound to the shoulder. I got the picture and it's Jarod's mother, all right. And they tried to check her into the women's ward, but she refused. Once she was treated, she practically ran out of there."  
  
"How does that help me Broots?"  
  
"Well, she musta been shaken up, cause she checked into a Bed and Breakfast in Inverness a couple of days later under the same name."  
  
"Are you sure it's her? That's a very common name, and it's a long way for a wounded woman to travel."  
  
"Jarod ran the same search . . . with the same results." Miss Parker raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I booked you a room."  
  
"What about the rest of our little posse?"  
  
"They don't get much business, I figured it might be strange for three people to check in at the same time and all get separate rooms. Sydney and I got rooms a couple of streets over in a different hotel."  
  
"Jarod will already know this."  
  
"The jet's ready to take off and your overnight bag is packed."  
  
"Then we'd better get going."  
  
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End file.
